He was so confused. He knew that he was Copperchick, yet everyone kept on calling him HawkChick. "Hey, Hawk!" Peeped a younger chick, a pretty little lavendar pullet. "Hi..." He said shyly, puzzled. "Is something the matter, Hawk?" She asked him. "No, I guess not." He grumbled, trying to seem normal among the strange new chickens. "If you say so..." She responded, a brow cocked slightly.
"Who goes first?" Said the trainer. "Ahh, yes, BlueChick." She said, smiling at the pullet. She nudged the chick onto the arena, a weasel in her grip. Several warriors behind her had weasels, too, waiting to release them or the other chick's training. "Ready, set, go!" She called out, the angry weasel paced around BlueChick, hissing like a snake. Her fluffy hackles, or lack thereof, flared as she too hissed. They both charged and locked their claws with each other, the weasel scratched wildly and inflicted several scrapes and cuts all across her chest. She did as she was taught by her teacher, and bit it in a certain place in the neck. The weasel yowled as it felt slight paralysis, and struggled to keep scratching her. She waited until it grew tired and weak, dodging almost every attempt it made to claw her, and pecked it once more in the neck. "BlueChick, congratulations!" The trainer cheered, impressed. She did a slight and modest bow, beaming, before stepping into the audience. "HawkChick, you're next!"
"Who goes first?" Said the trainer. "Ahh, yes, BlueChick." She said, smiling at the pullet. She nudged the chick onto the arena, a weasel in her grip. Several warriors behind her had weasels, too, waiting to release them or the other chick's training. "Ready, set, go!" She called out, the angry weasel paced around BlueChick, hissing like a snake. Her fluffy hackles, or lack thereof, flared as she too hissed. They both charged and locked their claws with each other, the weasel scratched wildly and inflicted several scrapes and cuts all across her chest. She did as she was taught by her teacher, and bit it in a certain place in the neck. The weasel yowled as it felt slight paralysis, and struggled to keep scratching her. She waited until it grew tired and weak, dodging almost every attempt it made to claw her, and pecked it once more in the neck. "BlueChick, congratulations!" The trainer cheered, impressed. She did a slight and modest bow, beaming, before stepping into the audience. "HawkChick, you're next!"
